Dead Cat on the Line
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: AU, 3 in The Cats' Series. A black cat. Two boys that have never met till then. And the path down which destiny leads one as facades are questioned and questioned again.


Author's Notes

If you're wondering why I'm writing a series missing the first two stories, it's not important which order I throw them out in. Thought of this one first so this is the one I'm writing. Each fic essentially stands alone, focusing on a pair of characters.

Title came from the idiom 'dead cat on the line'. It refers to when something is wrong, which I found rather fitting, seeing as where I wanted to go with this story. Blame depressing English lectures by the way. The twins aren't related by blood in this fic, so not the same set of parents. In that sense, I've left Kouichi's father and Kouji's birthmother ambiguous. Satomi is still Kouji's stepmother.

Now, this series deals with a variety of real life issues. Not too bad though, hence the T rating. This one focuses on two separate extremes in terms of living conditions…sort of. And their first meetings. And because this focuses specifically on those meetings, it runs a little choppily. It's the way modernist fiction works though. Because nothing is exact and whole. Especially as it's sort of an epiphany. Kouichi's is a separate story.

The ending isn't entirely defined, but it's supposed to be that way. Is it permenant, or temporary? Take your pick. Like isn't so definite as to give us an absolute answer. And it's a tad contradictory too, if you read closely enough. That was also on purpose.

Makes it sound a tad confusing with all that.

Anywho, enjoy.

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><p><span>Dead Cat on the Line<span>

AU, 3 in The Cats' Series. A black cat. Two boys that have never met till then. And the path down which destiny leads one as facades are questioned and questioned again.

Kouji M & Kouichi K

Genre/s: Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Rating: T

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><p>He preferred to stay away from people in general. That way, no connections would be formed, connections that would always lead to a termination later down the track. Just as he had lost his mother years ago. Just as he had lost his best friend only a few short months prior. Just as people moved away from time to time, changing, leaving…it was pointless to ever expect those connections to last.<p>

As it was, school brought with it only the most reluctant of bonds. It was necessary, after all, to have some sort of connection with the world around oneself when existing in such an environment. Teachers he simply had to deal with on a teacher-student basis. Students, only when it was completely necessary: school projects, labs and where people crossed the line and began actively hurting others.

After all, wasn't the whole reason he adorned this façade to save pain?

People knew not to mess with him. Quiet and distant as he was, he was also known to be rather harsh in the face of justice, putting his point across with sharp words and a sharp kick to go with it. Some made the mistake of fighting back; it didn't take him long at all to correct that.

Of course, not everyone was like that. It may have even been accurate to postulate that very few people were like that. Sure there was the occasional lone wolf like himself, but most attempted to forge ties and maintain them to their upmost…almost greedily, some. Then they either cast the ties aside far less than they deserved, or they mourned for their loss. It was a lose-lose situation, one that he extrapolated himself from in recent times.

It made him a little cold, he supposed, and rather bitter. He never did get along well with his father, perhaps because of the long hours he put into work, and even more so in recent times where he remarried twelve years after the death of his first wife. He loved them both; really, he did. But the inner fear he denied of losing them made him push them away. And he suspected at some deep, unconscious level, his father had always done the same.

How Satomi ever put up with the both of them when they got explicitly like that, even she would never know. Especially when their volatile tempers sometimes led to more words being exchanged than they would like.

As it was, only two things could coax him out of the little shell he encased himself within. Being pushed too far…or someone crying for help.

It started with the latter one to be honest. A ear-splitting hiss accompanied by a male voice crying out, torn between pain and prevention. Then another pair, which made his blood boil.

Enjoying the torture of an animal. And they were; a bleeding and almost broken black cat lay in the arms of a dark haired boy who was attempting to shield it from any further harm…though, to be honest, it looked hopeless. The other seemed to know that too, glaring fiercely but with a hint of anguish beneath the blue eyes that sparkled like the turquoise of the ocean water in the starlight.

'Stop it,' he hissed. 'You have no right to prey on those you think are weaker than you. You should help them, not harm them further.'

The shorter of the two standing laughed. 'Who are you to tell us what to do?' His brow furrowed slightly, as his own words registered. 'Who are you anyway?'

The one next to him rolled his eyes at his vertically challenged friend. 'Kimura,' he said, in an almost conversational tone. 'Wouldn't you like to step aside before you get hurt?'

'I'd like you to stop hurting others,' the boy, Kimura, said evenly.

The taller one lashed out, catching the younger boy under the chin and knocking him down, only to be caught himself in the stomach by Kouji who had found a moment that opening to interfere.

'Leave them both alone,' he snapped coldly.

'Or what?' the first boy taunted, looking between the two fifteen year olds, one with the injured cat in his arms, before shrugging in a careless manner. 'Whatever, the cat's dead anyway.'

He stalked off, followed by the other.

The boy with the cat in his arms looked at the defiled animal, before kneeling in the soft dirt of the park and digging his fingers into the soil.

'Arigato gozaimasu,' he said, without looking up, widening the small hole.

'Yeah, whatever.'

The other boy took the cat and placed him in the hole, burying him in soil and patting it down. 'She deserves better,' he said, somewhat sadly.

Kouji said nothing, but the other looked at him, turquoise eyes meeting sky.

'Why did you interfere?' he asked finally, looking at the boy who, as far as he could tell, had made no move to defend himself.

'I couldn't leave her,' the other said, gesturing to the makeshaft grave. 'No-one should be left alone if there's someone around to help.'

Kouji decided to leave at that moment. He hadn't realised though, that his phone had fallen out of his pocket and landed on the freshly dug soil.

Neither did the other boy, until he was about to leave himself.

* * *

><p>He was sitting alone. He always did. Lunchtime and afterschool buddies was as good a way as any to start making friends. It was a path he had travelled up till a few years ago and then given up on, or so he thought. But now and again, he would see people that could potentially be his friends, and he would have to sometimes resort to being downright rude to prevent himself from falling into that trap.<p>

Time and time again though, he would find himself too close. This time at least he thought, that boy was one he had never seen before, and would never again.

Funnily enough, it was another cat that halted him. Another black cat. Only this one was simply starving for food and nothing else.

He tossed what remained of the meat in his lunch to the kitty, who hungrily devoured it, then slunk after him with doeful yellow eyes as he attempted to leave.

He considered taking him home. But that would mean getting close to him. Or her, he realised, noting he didn't know the gender.

'Go away,' he snapped, somewhat halfheartedly. He could see the pain and loneliness behind those eyes.

_Did mine look like that?_ He wondered, seeing a reflection of blue within them.

Someone else suddenly picked up the cat on the next block. Someone he recognised. And someone who was holding a black cellphone out to him.

'You left this,' the boy said quietly.

'Oh.' He took the phone silently, before bowing his thanks.

'Is he a stray?' the boy asked, with hair shorter, croppier and lighter than his own.

The other shrugged. It looked like it, but he didn't really know.

A pale finger thread the bony back, before frowning and rearranging his grip so the cat would stay snug in his hold.

'Did you want him?'

Immediately, Kouji shook his head. The other looked at him a moment, recognising the façade he'd seen time and time before (when associated with the government, you tended to meet a lot of people), before shrugging himself, then bowing in both introduction and farewell.

'I didn't introduce myself earlier. Kimura Kouichi.'

'Minamoto Kouji,' the darker haired boy said.

The other nodded, smiled, and said his farewell.

* * *

><p>Eventually, he stopped walking. Fury still burnt, solidifying the stubborn block that was forming in his chest, but his legs were now protesting loudly against the action. He had walked far that night. Farther than he was used to walking.<p>

This tended to happen often, more so lately as father and son struggled to find common ground. It seemed utterly futile, as any outsider, Satomi included, could see both simply dealt with losing people in different ways, and neither worked nor were compatible with each other. Kousei threw himself into work, burying himself with paper instead of people, then becoming rather irate when said paper caught flame. Kouji built a wall around himself, similarly responding in a quite volatile manner when his own shields were sore. As they had both been of late. Neither could last. And it always ended with either the man shutting himself in his study or the boy stalking out of the house.

A bench was nearby, the hanging, coated branches of the Sakura tree looming over it, sprouting mature leaves of red and brown and shining in the late street lights. Under was a cool shade, the autumn chill captivated by the large lattice of bark and wood and the leafy canopy, but the wooden seat had none of that, simply stern and hard and stubborn, but worn from years of people, old, new, grouped or alone, sitting on it.

For a moment, he simply sat in the comforting atmosphere, the anger quelling into an amount of guilt…but faintly, so faintly. It would take awhile yet for the stubborn block to disappear. Tonight, at least he thought, he would taste the freedom outside him home, before he faced the consequences of his actions.

'Shouldn't you be at home?' a soft voice asked, sounding familiar and a little concerned.

Kouji looked up, a little annoyed at the interruption but somehow welcoming it all the same. He supposed it could be worse than one of the few he was actually on speaking terms with. Over a black cat of all things. One of the few people who were working a chisel through his shield and currently succeeding for no fault of their own. And this was one of those times where he would not want to be alone. As tough as he threw his façade, it was no help against the lonely darkness of the night. It was later than usual; the libraries and shops were already closed. And despite his age, he had never been out this late before. He had no idea what to expect by himself.

'It's a family issue,' he snapped, looking at the turquoise blue eyes critically regarding his own cerulean pair.

The other sighed lightly, clutching a mass of white fur the slightly younger boy managed to identify as a shivering puppy. 'Do you make it a habit of picking up strays?'

Kouichi shook his head. 'Just the ones that are hurt, and I have to leave them at the shelter eventually in any case. I can't afford to care for them.'

The raven looked at the other in slight amazement. This was the first time he was hearing anything personal about the older, quieter boy. 'What about your parents?'

Turquoise eyes looked at him, before their owner stood. 'My mother's dead and I have no father,' he said quietly, picking up the bag he had deposited at his feet. 'I need to be going.'

'Wait,' the other halted him, not knowing why he needed to know, but needing to all the same, even noting wryly he was throwing tact to the winds. Heck, he didn't even know why he was talking now, of all times, but perhaps it was simply the wall had been standing too long and was now crumbling at the foundations. 'Where do you live? A foster home or an orphanage or something?'

Luckily, the other didn't seem insulted, or even hurt. The fifteen year old simply looked tired and worn.

'I rent an apartment in Minato-ku,' he replied. He paused for a moment before adding: 'Do you need a place to stay for the night?'

Kouji blinked, before regarding his own situation, then accepting the offer. It was better than returning home right now before both hotheaded males had cooled down.

The other turned to lead the way, and he followed quietly.

* * *

><p>The apartment was extremely small, even by normal Japanese standards, barely able to accommodate more than a single full grown person. It was also out of the main residential areas; probably because it's cheaper, Kouji mused, realising how lucky he was to live in such a large house. The place was rather plain and empty.<p>

Kouichi set the puppy down onto a towel and bent down to retrieve a bowl from the cabinet, withdrawing that, along with two mugs and a small pot, all three looking rather worn. 'Can you pass me the milk from the fridge?' he asked, straightening up and turning the gas flame on.

The other did so, withdrawing a half filled jug from the small refrigerator (not on he noticed) and placing it on the tabletop. The first took it, pouring some into the pot and letting it heat silently for a few minutes before separating it into the three utensils, setting the bowl beside the towel, handing one mug to Kouji while taking the other himself.

'Maybe I should leave now,' he said uncomfortably, staring at the cup he held in his hand.

'If you don't want to return to your home,' the other said, giving him a sidelong glance. 'You don't have any other choice.'

'You barely know me.'

The other's lips twitched. 'Let's just call it picking a stray off the streets.'

Kouji scowled slightly as the slightly older boy kneeled down beside the dog and attempted to coax some milk into him. Blue eyes stared woefully into another pair of blue, and a pale hand gently stroked the uninjured parts of the white fur, critically examining the damage and offering comfort.

After a few minutes, the dog started to drink. So did both humans.

'Why are you doing this?'

'Why did you let?' the other shot back, partway amused though sounding a little tired. 'I've seen you at school; you hardly talk to anyone unless it's absolutely necessary, and you don't trust anyone. And yet you're here, in my apartment, alone. Doesn't that bother you in the slightest?'

He cocked his head slightly to smile serenely at him.

It did. But what other choice did he have.

'You could just go back and face it,' the other said, reading his thoughts. 'I know it's not my business to interfere with your private affairs, but I think you'd be happier if you let yourself go a little. Stopped pulling yourself back. Allow your body and mind to follow what your heart feel. Wouldn't you rather not be along and angry and scared?'

'I'm not scared,' Kouji snapped immediately.

'You are,' Kouichi insisted, taking the empty mugs. 'You wouldn't deny it otherwise.'

The slightly younger boy looked around the small apartment, almost bare except assortments of things that really didn't artistically fit.

'How?' he asked eventually.

'How what?'

'How do you live like this?'

Kouichi looked around his own apartment, before closing his eyes. 'I won't lie,' he said quietly. 'Sometimes, I want nothing more than for things to go back to how they were. For things to be _better_, where we didn't always have to worry about work, and time, and other people. Sometimes, I get tired of caring. But if no-one cared, what would become of everyone?'

He stroked the dog's fur a moment before continuing. 'My mother died when I was eight,' he explained. 'My father left her before I was even born. She didn't even know who he was. When she died, my grandmother looked after me for a bit, then sent me over to an orphanage, where I stayed till my fifteenth birthday in between foster homes. Some of those were good, some not so much. I don't think I need to explain.'

He didn't.

'Every time I'd move, I'd have to start over. Make new friends, find a new position in the world, and most importantly, make sure it was one where I still had my identity. Sometimes it seemed so easy to just be someone else, but at the same time, there was this notion that none of what I had then belonged to me. None of it was mine by any right. Some families had it all you know, money, prestige, unity…everything a regular child could envy, but you notice they don't seem any better than anyone else. Because that stuff comes at a price. Living like that, in that sort of restrained environment, sure it seems easy, but you've lost the substance in life at the same time. You can't appreciate what you have because you've always had it. For people who haven't, they see it in a different way, torn between envy and wisdom that it brings. And in the end, it is not something you can ever do alone. You need people, people to talk to, people who help you, people to help…that's the way the world works. Everything, being the envy of someone else, is interrelated.

I tried a few times, to simply lock myself away. I couldn't do it. Always, I'd find myself needing help, and denying it, or finding someone or something else needing it, and in the end, I gave up on it. Why? I asked myself. It was pointless fighting the way the world is made.'

'So you gave up?' It didn't seem that way, although it sounded.

'Not at all.' The turquoise eyes looked at him. 'I just threw away the mask. Sometimes, it's just about pressing your pride down and being willing to ask for help when you need it. Orphans generally leave the orphanage at fifteen, because there are far too many children on the streets that need shelter in this world, and we are by then capable of taking care of ourselves to a degree. There are jobs around, at supermarkets, factories…that can accommodate for pre-college teenagers without any sort of expertise at about 700 yen an hour, enough to pay the apartment's rent, ones that are about 40,000 yen per month, groceries and the other minimal house-keeping expenses. The government pays for schooling and insurance.' He gave a bit of a wry grin at the end. 'And counselling.'

'It hurts.' It wasn't a question, but a statement.

'It does,' the other agreed. 'But it also gives more happiness, more satisfaction. At times I may still want to lie down or throw my arms up and throw a fit, and sometimes I do…when no-one's listening, but I've still got things I need and want to do with my life, and at least I know when I get there in the end, it'll be worth it. It'll be satisfying having gotten there, no matter how many people I've had to ask for help from, how many people I've lost, along the way. Because that's the simple fact of life. Nothing ever stays the same.'

'I guess…' Kouji sighed through his nose. 'I never really realised how lucky I was.'

He said no more to the other, but within himself, he still thought. Sure, he had a good life, relatively speaking. Two parents (even if one wasn't his birth one), a house, lots of stuff other's could envy, and almost bill-perfect health. But he pushed his parents away, was hardly ever home himself though he always unknowingly utilised it all…he couldn't imagine suddenly not having a home to go to any more. But he also knew that the two circumstances were about as polar opposite as they could be. For him, it wasn't about finding what he could use. It was about using what he could find.

'I think I'll be going home now.' Kouji bowed in thanks, before walking to the door, only just realising at that point that he had let someone deeper than he normally would. Already, things were changing again. But it didn't feel all that bad, even if he might never see the boy again.

The other waved him off as he disappeared through the doorway and down the stairs. He too was thinking about their meeting. Three times in the same day, but perhaps their first and last rolled into one. Or not; who knew really what fate had in store.

The door clicked shut, though the lock failed to catch. He only noticed though as it swung open again, revealing another in the frame.

His eyes dropped slightly, but he nodded in understanding.

'Three days.'

'Hai. Arigato.'

The man left. The boy stayed, looking at the apartment that had been his home for the last six months, before starting to pack away his possessions. It was time to move in the world again.

* * *

><p>Kousei was surprised to find his son far more placate when he walked in near midnight. He resisted asking where the other had been, despite the parental concern, seeing as the questions had been what had triggered their tempers in the first place.<p>

'Gomen 'tou-san,' he said quietly, but in a still somewhat hard voice. It would take time for ideas to fully solidify. Because as sure as time itself was, lessons had to sometimes be repeated over and over to leave an imprinting effect. Sometimes though, it took only someone else to show things a little more clearly, someone not involved in the tangled web of his life.

He couldn't say for sure now. But he thought it might, just might, be more towards the former than the latter. Because he had been told, and told himself, time and time again. He tried, for the briefest times, earlier, but something always shattered.

But everyone: his parents, Kouichi…they were right. It was impossible. People needed him. He needed them.

As much as he wasn't too thrilled to admit the later. Though he did have to admit, listening to the other's story had been what he needed at the time.

* * *

><p>A few nights later, there was a bark at the door, accompanied by a very familiar face. He recognised it instantly, the stray puppy the other boy had been carrying when they met at the park.<p>

He went to return him, only to find a woman in her thirties living there.

'I'm sorry,' he said, sounding rather surprised. 'This dog belongs to a friend of mine, and he lives here…at least, he did a few days ago.' He was sure he had gotten the directions right.

'I just moved in today,' the woman smiled apologetically. 'I'm afraid I don't know anything about who lived here before.'

He looked in the address book. But there was no listing under Kimura that told him what he needed to know. There were several with that family name: an old woman living alone, a couple with three pre-school kids, a young woman living alone…but none of them was the teenage boy he was looking for.

The dog barked at him, following him everywhere he went. And eventually, he followed him home as well. And he didn't have much of a choice but to keep him.

Yet another to let into his heart. But he had somehow snuck in without him knowing.

He stopped by a flower shop on the way home. It was his parents' wedding anniversary, he remembered. He should at least try and make an effort again.

There wasn't much in a life boxed in after all, he realised, paying for the flowers after an awkward conversation with the florist. Maybe, just maybe, he could do this after all.

He brought another batch too, to put on his birthmother's grave. He hadn't visited her in awhile either.

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><p><span>Post Author's Notes<span>

Apartments/flats around here are cheaper in the first six months, then the net price per month goes up. So people who can't afford it especially move around every six months. In addition, the cheaper apartments in Tokyo are used to house oversees teachers, so they'd get the priority in any case. Point is, you can't keep the same apartment for years on end at a good deal, price wise.

Governments offer some sort of counselling service for orphans and homeless. I don't know the exact details, but I assume you'd meet a lot of people you don't know and will likely never meet again and talk quite deeply to them, so it isn't strange at all for Kouichi to do the same thing outside of that service. As for inviting him to his apartment, seriously, what has he got to lose?


End file.
